That Old Blues Bar
by Oh Moneypenny
Summary: AU in which Mike is the newest Blues singer in New York City and is about to hit the stage in an old blues bar. Harvey happens to love the bar, but he might love more than that by the time he hears Mike sing.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, I know it's been forever since I've put anything up but it's SUMMER so here's a little thing to ease me back in. Let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Suits, just the plot line - which is vaguely influenced by US show Nashville, which I don't own either. **

**That Old Blues Bar - AU in which Mike is a blues singer and Harvey is still a lawyer. **

Harvey walked into the slightly darkened bar around eight. He sighed as he touched an elbow here and slid between two people there to get to the bar and order a strong single malt. This place hadn't been this crowded for years he noted with a grumble that may or may not let slip about a clue of his age. He settled on to an empty stool and looked around.

The bar used to be known for the best live blues music in New York. Mostly blues, occasionally soul and acoustic singers would strum their guitars and croon out moody tunes that bled into the chilled, softened ambience of the club. This was exactly why a man like Harvey liked to be here.

The bar had taken a turn for the worse in recent years, losing some of its headline blues acts to various reasons and losing some of its biggest customers to age. Harvey was a young man in this club, filled with old lined men talking about sweet Robert Johnson and coughing huskily into their southern whiskeys. Harvey loved it.

He hadn't been in months, with Jessica calling him out to work harder and Louis Litt being a generally pain in his ass, he just hadn't had the time. The club might have lost several customers but they hadn't lost Harvey - not in the long run anyway. Once settled on a stool, he heard that familiar Tennessee drawl of the bar's favourite waitress. "Well, well, well, if it isn't you, Harvey!"

Harvey grinned, turning to face the large women who was polishing glasses and flashing a wide grin in Harvey's direction. "Yes, ma'am, it is," he replied. She let out a laugh at the sign of respect in his voice and slid a glass over to him, swearing it was the bar's best. She sighed softly, patting Harvey's hand. "You know," she said, her chocolate eyes covered with heavy lids, "I think we might be on the up, sweetie."

"You been drinking too much bourbon again, Lizzie?" Harvey asked, quickly withdrawing his hand before it got smacked.

She chuckled. "No! We got a new act on the stage. Mike Ross. You heard of him, Harv?"

Harvey shook his head and felt his phone buzz in his pocket but ignored it.

"Ah, you fancy lawyers with your Harvard degrees and black tie parties don't know a thing. Just you wait, mister, he's on in ten." She smiled and bustled off to serve another customer. "He's gonna do big things for us and himself, jus' you wait!" She called over at Harvey, her smile breaking into a grin.

* * *

Ten minutes later, just as Lizzie the waitress had promised, Mike Ross appeared on stage. The small crowd was underwhelmed. Instead of a seasoned blues artist, aged with pain and aching and music that rocked the soul, there was a pale, blond twenty-something on stage with a mike stand and guitar.

"Hey," he said shakily, after fumbling with the stand and perching on a stool. "So this is my first gig and-" Harvey had to resist the urge to scoff. "But here goes," Mike finished hopefully as he brought the guitar to his lap.

There was silence in the room, as Mike sat their bathed in the warm glow of a yellow spotlight that had shone up on many greats of the industry. There was a moment of anticipation and expectation as Mike took a breath and closed his eyes. And then, he started to play.

It was a modern song, slowed down to a blues beat. Mike's fingers danced on the strings, blues riffs working in with the lyrics of a charts love song. Harvey looked closer at the singer on stage. His shoulders were tense but his breathing seemed to be evening out with every line. It seemed effortless.

"_All I want is the taste that your lips allow,_" Mike sang, looking out at the audience, locking on nobody in particular. A strange ache formed in Harvey's stomach and he forced himself to take another sip of alcohol. Blues riffs wrapped around the room and Harvey couldn't look away as Mike sang, asking, begging the audience for love as if they were his lovers in a sleepy bedroom scene. Those eyes certainly suggested that. The eyes caught Harvey's. They were so blue and wow, didn't that just make Harvey want to take him home and love him?

Mike's set wasn't long - maybe twenty minutes but Harvey could have listened to him all night. Mike's songs were mostly modern with an old twist, something Harvey never thought he would find in any way appealing and yet, _and yet_ it was.

Harvey was left warm and breathless and with goosebumps on his neck as Mike left the stage. It was the same feeling as after being kissed for a long time and coming back to reality. He jumped with Liz slid up the bar to refresh his drink. "He's good, ain't he?" she said, looking pretty damn proud of her self.

"Sure is," Harvey sighed, hoping the waitress wouldn't read his face.

"Mhm," she hummed knowingly. "Apparently singing ain't all he's good at! You think he's pretty, Harv?"

"Leave it, Lizzie," he said gently. "It doesn't matter."

"Okay, Harvey," she grinned and walked away.

He was just about to put on his jacket and wander home when Lizzie appeared. "Hey, Harv," she said cheerfully, "Got someone I'd like you to meet - this is the singer you liked so much, Mike Ross."

She pulled Mike out from behind her and thrust him onto the stool next to Harvey. "Why don't you two get to know each other?" She laughed and walked away, swaying her hips triumphantly.

* * *

Mike smiled, laughing down at the top of the old polished bar as if Lizzie had done this to him before. The thought made Harvey want to heave with jealousy, so he thought he'd better make a move. "I've never heard anybody sing blues like that," he smiled sideways at Mike.

"What can I say.. the scene needs shaken up a little," Mike replied after a pause.

They both looked around at the aging veterans; most of the people that had been there to watch Mike had left for another bar or home. "I guess you could say that," Harvey muttered reluctantly. "So, where ya from?"

They talked over more drinks, a beer bottle in Mike's hand and a glass of whisky in Harvey's as they chatted, their smiles becoming softer towards each other as time ticked on. Mike surprised Harvey by saying, "Look, I don't normally do this but," he paused nervously, "do you want to go out for dinner or another drink or whatever?"

He looked scared. Harvey smiled and said yes but neither of them moved to leave and they ordered another drink each.

Harvey kissed Mike outside the bar. One of his hands sat underneath the hinge of Mike's jaw as he tilted his head up and kissed him, the other hand sat lightly on his side, doing nothing but keeping them both grounded. One of Mike's hands went to Harvey's shoulder, the other held his beat up guitar case from falling.

"Let me take you home," Harvey whispered against Mike's lips as they parted.

Mike smiled shyly. "No, I think we'll do that dinner first. I have another gig tomorrow night." He pulled a pen out of his pocket and reached out for Harvey's hand, pushing up his sleeve. Messy handwriting scrawled a phone number over the inside of his forearm.

"Call me," Mike grinned and turned, his guitar case knocking against his leg as he walked away.

**To be continued!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I know I'm a day late, I went to see Gatsby yesterday. **

**That Old Blues Bar - Chapter 2**

They text back and forward for a few days after they meet. It's not as romantic as it could be, but Harvey is snowed under with a merger at work and Mike is playing gigs and writing songs. He writes at night, preferring the shadowy quiet than daylight. He writes about Harvey, but he doesn't think he'll ever tell him that.

One night Mike finds himself lost without inspiration yet unable to put his mind to rest and go to sleep. He knows it's selfish and ridiculous to try and call Harvey at 1am but still, he wants to so much. Harvey's texts are flirtatious and tempting, but Mike closes his eyes and remembers the easy chuckle that is Harvey's laugh and that smooth voice that he could listen to for days. He picks up the phone and calls before he can stop himself.

It rings three times. Mike feels self-concious. A sleep roughened, "Hello?" sounds in his ear.

Mike sighs and leans back against the pillows, but he's snapped out of his reverie when he hears, "Mike, you okay?"

"Yeah," Mike murmurs. "I couldn't sleep. I'm sorry I-"

"It's okay," Harvey cuts over him. Mike faintly hears the rustle of sheets and a shift of mattress and can't help himself smile.

"So, is something bothering you?" Harvey asks.

Mike snuggles down in his own blankets and tucks the phone under his ear as he lies on his side. "I've been wondering when... when we're going to go out for dinner."

Harvey laughs gently and they make a date for Friday. Mike settles further into the bed. "Harvey?" he asks quietly.

"Mm?" Harvey murmurs in return.

"Can you talk to me until I fall asleep? I know it's lame but otherwise I won't fall asleep all night and I know you've got a lot going on at work and stuff but-"

"But nothing, Mike." Mike nearly laughed. Clearly Harvey was going to be doing a lot of interrupting. "Lie down," he ordered softly. "Hmm," Harvey rumbled and Mike thought he could write a whole album just dedicated to Harvey's chocolate smooth voice. This thought slipped away as quickly as it had came when Harvey started talking, telling him random details about himself; little anecdotes of childhood and about his father who had played the saxophone and about his life at Pearson Hardman, about Donna and Louis and Jessica. Mike smiled into his pillow until he fell asleep and dreamt of Harvey's sleep soft voice in his ear all night.

* * *

The date was the kind of date Mike could write songs about forever and never get bored. Harvey was a bottomless pit of half smiles and soft laughs and long drawn out anecdotes accompanied by fingertips moving along Mike's hands and collar and cheek. The food is excellent and Harvey doesn't force Mike to try food with elegance he has no interest in.

"I don't wanna go home," Mike smiles as they walk without destination away from the restaurant.

"So don't," Harvey says, watching carefully for Mike's reaction.

"No," Mike looks sad for a moment. "No, I don't think I'm ready and I have writing to do."

Harvey turns and looks at Mike, pulling him close even though they're in public. "You can write at mine," Harvey sighs. "There's a guitar in the closet I haven't played for fifteen years. You can sleep in my bed, I won't try anything if you don't want it." Harvey ducks down to look into Mike's downcast eyes. "What do you say?"

"We definitely won't-" Mike gestures awkwardly at the space between him and Harvey.

Harvey cups the back of Mike's neck. "I might ask for a kiss goodnight but otherwise it's up to you."

* * *

At Harvey's, Mike settles on the sofa and luxuriates in how relaxed Harvey is and, in turn, how relaxed that makes him feel. Harvey presents Mike with a guitar made of pale wood and a beaten up black leather notepad and a pen. His hand wanders to slip down the back of Mike's collar and massage his neck for a moment. They are both struck with a feeling of intense domesticity and both wonder how it feels so right.

Mike finds himself laughing and teasing Harvey about the guitar not being in tune and ends up curling into his neck for a moment to ease Harvey's petulant sulk as he watches a movie. He had offered to go and read on the balcony and leave Mike to it but Mike had kissed Harvey despite himself and asked him to stay.

It's nearing midnight when Harvey flicks off the television and turns to Mike who is hunched deep over the notepad, scrawling line after line and occasionally moving to play a chord or two on the guitar and then swiftly moving back to the notepad.

"I had to disturb you," Harvey says softly. "But I'm going to bed."

"Okay," is all Mike says and he gets up and follows Harvey, finding warmth and safety in Harvey's arms as he lies in bed and sleeps deeply.

Mike wakes early and goes from alert back to sleepy in a very quick time. He plays with Harvey's hand that is slung protectively over his side and thinks of the song he has been writing, humming quietly under his breath to try and pick up the tune. Ten minutes later and he has dashed to the living room to pick up the guitar and then he is sitting in bed with his back to the headboard, playing quietly so as to not wake Harvey quickly.

Eventually, Harvey does wake up. He wakes to the sound of music and Mike's voice singing, "_You know, I met a guy in an old Blues bar.._" and so the song went on as Harvey smiled into Mike's hip and discovered there was nothing better than hearing a laugh break into the sound of Mike's singing voice.

* * *

**I don't think I want to take this further, it just rounds off at a nice fluffy point here. Hope you enjoyed!**


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